


We Won't Run

by AsheRhyder



Series: Lone Wolf [3]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Blackwatch Era, Dad Reaper | Gabriel Reyes, M/M, Modern Era, Redemption
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-02
Updated: 2016-12-02
Packaged: 2018-09-03 16:52:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8721433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AsheRhyder/pseuds/AsheRhyder
Summary: Two kinds of people run at the first opportunity: the dumb, and the desperate. McCree isn't either of those. Neither is Reaper.  Where one man goes, the other follows.





	

**Author's Note:**

> The "Now" section of this story takes place sometime between the "Until" and "Someday" sections of "Pack Tactics". It helps to have read the rest of the series for this one.

 

**THEN:**

* * *

 

 

_ The very first ‘solo’ mission Jesse ran for Blackwatch wasn’t actually ‘solo’; Gabriel was technically in the field with him, running analysis on the recon Jesse was supposed to be gathering. However, there were whole days when neither asset nor handler saw each other, or even made radio contact, so it may as well have been Jesse on his own.  His cover as a somewhat clumsy art student gave him reason to sit in an architecturally fascinating neighborhood across from a building that just happened to be the meeting place for a several suspicions individuals. All he needed to do was sit and sketch his surroundings, leaving his pencil bag in a way that the hidden camera could catch the comings and goings. Sometimes he’d ‘lose’ pencils to plant bugs in strategic locations. But mostly, he waited.  _

_ As far as missions went, it was supposed to be cakewalk. He was a little surprised when he walked back into the safehouse one night and Gabriel was at the kitchen table with a gun in front of him.  _

_ “What’s up, Boss?” He asked, immediately shucking his art student persona and gear.  _

_ “Could be trouble tomorrow,” Gabriel said evenly. “Take this.”  _

_ “That isn’t going to fit in my pencil case,” Jesse walked over to the table and examined the gun, checking that it was loaded and that the safety was on. It was smaller than his preferred type of pistol, but the Quartermaster had yet to grant his request for a signature weapon, so he supposed beggars couldn’t be choosers. _

_ “Funny.” Gabriel had not looked away from Jesse once. The Commander’s attention, usually heavy but uninvasive, sometimes even comforting, was suddenly stifling. Jesse slipped the gun into his waistband for lack of a proper holster.  _

_ “You all right, Boss?” He asked.  _

_ “Peachy.”  _

_ Jesse’s smile went slightly plastic.  _

_ “Blink twice if compromised,” he muttered, barely moving his lips.  _

_ Gabriel just huffed a laugh, his expression finally warming to something more familiar.  _

_ “You know they’re testing you.” He said. It wasn’t a question. Jesse nodded, relaxing as the other shoe dropped.  _

_ “I figured. It was set up a bit too neatly to sit right.” He beamed at Gabriel, pouring out enough fake sincerity to cover the very real delight inside. “Though I do declare that it downright warms my heart that you’d go on and tell me up front.”  _

_ “Just so you know, it’s not my idea. Only an idiot would try to run at the first opportunity, and you’re no idiot, Firecracker.”  _

_ “Shhh! Don’t let it get around!” Jesse said, still exaggerating his motions. “I’ve almost got Jack convinced I never learned to read and that’s why I don’t answer any of his emails!”  _

_ Gabriel rolled his eyes and tried to suppress a laugh.  _

_ “You realize that just means he’ll send you voice mail, right? Maybe even schedule literacy tutors, too.”  _

_ “Really? Damn. That’s… awfully considerate of him, actually.”  _

_ “He’s not that bad, for a boy scout.” Gabriel’s tone was much more fond than his mere words.  _

_ “Boss, I know this may come as a surprise to you being a city boy, but the great Farmers Vs. Cowboys rivalry is as old as these hills, and a right honorable tradition. Don’t make me give that up, Boss. It’d be un-American.”  _

_ “I literally put the cowboy hat on your head the very first time. Do not think you can pull that crap with me.”  _

_ “Killjoy.”  _

_ Gabriel hauled himself out of the chair and shook his head.  _

_ “Get some rest, Firecracker. They’re going to be watching you tomorrow.”  _

_ “You got it, Boss.” Jesse shifted uneasily as Gabriel headed for the door. “Hey, Boss?”  _

_ “Yeah?”  _

_ “In the spirit of sharing and stuff, how long do you think it’s going to be before I try and split?”  _

_ Gabriel went still, and for one moment Jesse thought he overstepped.  _

_ “Full disclosure?” Gabriel said, turning around with his posture carefully neutral. “I don’t think you will. Not as long as you’ve got the ‘Watch on your side. No gang’s going to give you the things we do, and I think you’re smart enough to realize that. So long as we’re good for you, you’ll stay.”  _

_ He started to turn back around but stopped halfway, flicking one last too-sharp look back at Jesse.  _

_ “That’s what I hope, anyway.” He said. “You can do some real good here. I’d like to see you get to do it.”  _

 

_ Jesse spent the next day restless with Gabriel’s words rattling around inside his head. His sketches, already on the more impassioned side rather than trained or technical, darkened the pages of his prop book like oncoming storms. When his comm suddenly glitched in the middle of the day at the same time as what seemed like a neighborhood power failure, his mood stretched into desert stillness, waiting for the first strike of lightning.  _

_ He watched three members of different crime rackets come out of the building arguing, each approaching a non-descript black car. Each seemed to blame the other for the outage, but none had taken action. Yet.  _

_ Then gunfire broke out in the building, the sharp, harsh staccato of automatic fire, and the three men drew guns on each other and fired wildly.  _

_ Jesse was on his feet in an instant, pencils and papers scattered across the pavement as he rushed forward to get a few startled civilians out of the way.  _

_ “Head down, ma’am,” he said to a frightened mother. “Back around the bench, through that there alley.” The woman sobbed her thanks and clutched her crying child close as she made a break for it. McCree drew the pistol from behind his back and closed in on the criminals out front.  _

_ “-Cree! McCree, do you read me? Answer me, you damn-” The comm fizzled and crackled back into life.  _

_ “I hear you, Boss. What’s happening?”  _

_ “This isn’t the damn test! Some asshole inside broke a piece of tech, shorted out a bunch of shit, and it’s all a fucking mess. Do not engage; your gun is loaded with blanks.”  _

_ “Well that’s a fine thing to do to a fella.” Jesse grumbled.  _

_ “That was part of the test. Sorry, Firecracker, this wasn’t supposed to happen.”  _

_ “I hear you, Boss.” Jesse sighed. “Should I apprehend ‘em, or execute?”  _

_ “You’re unarmed. Do Not Engage!”  _

_ “Sorry? Did I just hear a challenge?”  _

_ “Firecracker, don’t you fucking dare-”  _

_ “Sorry Boss, comm’s cutting out again. See you when you catch up!”  _

 

_ McCree heard the tell-tale clicking of empty chambers and fumbling reloads, and he dove into action. He lept over one car, tackled the gunman hiding there, and slammed the man’s head into the pavement in a single move. In another he grabbed the now-unconscious man’s gun, rolled out of cover, and finished reloading the clip. He came upright in front of the second man, who was peering out to see what had happened, and McCree smashed him in the face with the butt of the gun and then shot him in the shoulder when he stubbornly refused to pass out like his ex-associate. That man dropped with a ragged cry; McCree took his gun and wheeled around to the third man, whose ears he thoroughly boxed.  _

_ McCree stood up as he heard shotgun fire in the building. He grinned to himself, ziptied all three of his prisoners together, and had just disassembled their guns when Gabriel kicked the front door down from inside, having apparently decided that ‘through’ was the quickest path.  _

_ “What part of ‘Do Not Engage’ did you not understand?” Gabriel snarled. “This was supposed to be covert ops!”  _

_ Jesse’s grin fell off his face.  _

_ “Sorry, Boss.” He said, offering Gabriel the decoy weapon. “Guess I jumped the gun a bit.”  _

_ Gabriel’s eye twitched.  _

_ “You better not be punning me, boy.”  _

_ “No, sir. Wouldn’t dream of it, sir.”  _

_ Gabriel winced.  _

_ “Don’t you give me any of your lip, either.”  _

_ “Of course not, sir.”  _

_ The Commander buried his face in his hand and groaned.  _

_ “Damn it, Firecracker. Come on. Let’s get out of here before the local authorities show up.”  _

_ “You got it, Boss.”  _

_ “If this  _ were _ a test, you’d have failed.”  _

_ “What, ‘cause I didn’t obey orders? I got the bad guys.”  _

_ “Command structure’s there for a reason.” _

_ Jesse shrugged.  _

_ “There’s missions, and then there’s Missions.” He said. “I reckon you’d tell me if it were the important kind. At least give me a reason better than ‘you’re unarmed’.”  _

_ “I told you they’d be watching you.”  _

_ “And they’ll see I didn’t run,” McCree said. “Coulda just taken that civilian and escorted her straight outta the city. Could have done a lot of things. Didn’t run, though. I ain’t a runner.”  _

_ “I’ve seen you go walking away plenty of times. Especially when you’re losing a fight.”  _

_ “That’s different.” Jesse waved his hand. “A man needs some fresh air from time to time. I mean the big things, Boss. The things that matter. I’m not running from you.”  _

_ Gabriel grunted and stalked onwards into the shadows of the city, drawing the darkness around him like a cloak.  _

__ _And McCree followed._

 

* * *

 

**NOW:**

* * *

 

The lights below Lijiang Tower spread like the scattered jewels of a lost treasure hoard, sparkling against the black velvet of night. McCree sits with his legs dangling off the side of the tower balcony and his arms wound around the safety railing, chin resting on the metal bar as he stares out into the night. Reaper crouches beside him, facing the other direction and guns at the ready in case anything tries to sneak up on the cowboy. 

It’s a small mission, just the two of them to ‘borrow’ a satellite tracking system from the company that owns the tower. All they really have to do is plant the tech-spike in the control room and Athena will take care of the rest. McCree is mostly there as back-up. Reaper had given Winston a very flat look upon receiving the assignment, and Winston had flustered and promised that there would be no super-smart gorillas to stop him this time. 

McCree is still morbidly amused, to be honest. 

 

“I know it’s a test,” Reaper says in a low, gravelly hiss that would menace most others. McCree just hums thoughtfully. 

“It was supposed to be,” he says, lightly enough that Reaper turns to watch him. “Winston’s about as subtle as a bag of bricks, though, which kind of makes it a moot point.” 

Reaper snorts. 

“Only an idiot runs at the first opportunity.” 

“Dumb or desperate.” McCree nods agreeably. His congeniality grates on Reaper’s still raw nerves. 

“So did you bring your archer or Ana to take me down if I go rogue?” 

“That’d be telling.” McCree extinguishes his cigar on the balcony floor and puts the remainder into his pocket for later. “‘Sides, it doesn’t matter much. According to the actual mission plan, we’re supposed to be taking the market right now.” 

Despite an impassive, unmoving mask, Gabriel manages to look incredulous.

“What.” 

“Hanzo’s sitting on top that shop with the squid on a stick down there, waiting for us to land. And Ana’s out in that little tea shop in the garden. I figured we’d keep ‘em on their toes, spare everyone the indignity of pretending we don’t know what’s really going on, and just have ourselves a little chat.” 

Gabriel doesn’t sputter but he does lift his mask so he can give Jesse the full effect of a Disapproving Commander look. McCree no longer answers to him, though, and the look rolls off his back. 

“Do you have  _ any _ support or defense up here?” Gabriel snarls. 

McCree turns away from the skyline for the first time since their arrival and gives Gabriel a look that can only be translated as, “Duh. You.” 

“Damn it, Firecracker, that’s not how these sorts of missions are supposed to go!” 

“You’re not an idiot, Boss, and I’m not going to insult you by treating you like one. You’re a little bit crazy, have a hell of a lot of baggage, and yeah, you’re a good bit damaged, but ain’t we all?” McCree shrugs. 

Gabriel snorts. 

“Don’t you dare dredge up another twenty-year old pep-talk and throw it back at me,” he growls. 

 

McCree takes a deep breath and shifts his gaze back to the night sky. There’s too much light pollution to see the stars properly, and he’d barely recognize them on this side of the world, but the open sky always calms him like nothing else can. 

The silence between them is heavy with the things they will not voice. 

 

“ _ Are you going to run?” _

__ **_“Are you going to stop me?”_ **

__ _ “Are you leaving me behind again?”  _

__ **_“Would you follow me?”_ **

 

Most of Jesse’s face remains unmoved. His eyes, however, are anguished. 

“That’s a hell of a thing to ask me, Boss,” he says out loud, startling Gabriel. “Hell of a thing.” 

Gabriel waits, regardless. 

__ _ “Would you follow me?” _ hangs in the air, unspoken but as powerful as if it were its own person. McCree stares down into the city as if he can see Hanzo pacing on the roof of the shop so many stories below. 

“Eight years ago, I would’ve followed you into Hell in a heartbeat,” Jesse says. “Nearly did, a few times. Shit, five years ago I’d’ve dug you out of the grave if you’d even sent me a sign.” 

“But not now,” says Reaper. 

“You were the best teacher I ever had,” McCree says, “but you weren’t the only one, and you weren’t the last.” 

Reaper’s temper smolders. 

“Who?” He growls. “Jack? Ana? One of those new bloods teaching an old dog new tricks?” 

But McCree just turns back to look him in the eye, and Gabriel actually startles to realize how much time has passed for someone he always thinks of as a much younger person. 

“Me, Gabriel. I taught myself how to survive without anyone at my back and all the world against me. And maybe you set me up for that lesson, but I learned it alone.” There’s no accusation in his tone, just simple statement of fact. “It’s made me into the sort of man who doesn’t let go so easily when he’s got a good thing.” 

“The archer.” 

“The archer.” McCree nods. “And the ‘Watch. And you, now that you’re back. When you decide to stay.” 

He looks away this again, this time up at the fat, full moon. 

Reaper doesn’t say anything for a while. Their comms finally squeal as the check-in time comes and goes without their attendance. Both men grunt out surly “not now”s into the line and turn it off before anyone can start yelling at them on the other end. 

Gabriel shifts ever so slightly. 

“You sound awfully confident, Firecracker.” He says at last. 

“Well, full disclosure,” Jesse’s lips quirk into a smirk that makes Gabriel groan, “I think you can do some real good here. I’d like to see you get to do it.” 

“How can you still remember that shit after twenty years?” 

“How can you?” Jesse challenges, and Gabriel has no comeback for that. “I ain’t running, Boss. Never again.” 

 

They sit in silence for a little while longer, McCree with his eyes on the sky, Reaper with his eyes on the horizon. 

 

Eventually McCree stands up and pulls out the payload they need to plant. He strolls into the tower, shucking the night’s lonely darkness like an ill-fitting, borrowed coat. 

 

And Reaper follows. 

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from the Of Monsters and Men song, "King and Lionheart".


End file.
